


Nothing’s Gonna Be the Same

by sambethe



Series: There's Always Gonna Be This Thing [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Getting Back Together, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9333371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambethe/pseuds/sambethe
Summary: Sometimes you’re not quite sure what comes next, but sometimes it just hits you. Follow-up to There’s Always Gonna Be This Thing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @lifeinahole27 & @lenfaz for their welcome input and advice.

He wanted to kiss her.

Emma let herself into the house that night, calling his name as she knocked once and turned the knob of the door he left unlocked for her. Killian hid his smile at the comfort in that simple act and drank down the remains of his beer.

They ate pizza and watched television, their usual Friday night routine, and throughout he could see where her sheriff’s badge and gun sat in the basket on the table by the door. It’s the basket he bought specifically for that purpose, and it makes him warm to think of it. Nearly as warm as the feel of her toes tucked beneath his thigh as she sank down in the couch and took up more than her fair share of space.

And he wanted to lean over and place a kiss to her knee before crawling over her to capture her lips. Wanted to dip down and feel the heat of her beneath him. Wanted to know if she still tasted the same, if he could still elicit a moan by hitching her leg up to his hip and drawing his hand to her ass.

But he stopped himself. The same as he’d been doing for months.

Instead he picked up the remote as he curled his other hand around the heel of her foot and pressed play on the next episode.

And when she left that night, lingering as she wound her scarf around her neck and slipped her badge and gun to her belt, he wondered if he was being a fool.

*

He still walked Roland to school each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning. And each Wednesday and Friday, Emma would be outside the station as he headed back, two paper coffee cups in hand.

He wondered each time what it would be like to simply lean into her space when they reached her turn off at Main. What it would be like to leave a kiss at her temple, or a brush across her lips. If once in a while she would allow him to push it just a bit further, to pull at her waist and slide his tongue between her lips.

Wondered if he could slip her free hand into his as they walked, his thumb sweeping along hers.

But each morning he gave her just a nod and a smile before she departed, even those mornings she reached out and brushed her hand along his arm.

He was quite certain he was a fool.

*

She slid into the booth next to him at the Rabbit Hole. His arm was already slung over the back and now, as she curled a touch closer than necessary, all he could smell was the scent of her shampoo. When David sat next to her, she shimmied closer until the length of her thigh pressed into his.

David and Emma spoke of a few stray dogs he had picked up last week while Robin and Belle returned with another round of drinks. All Killian could concentrate on, though, was the unsteady rhythm Emma’s fingers tapped out on her thigh, right near where hers was pressed to his. He wondered if she meant for her hand to rest on him. He wished for her fingers to scratch along the inside seam of his jeans. He imagined being able to drop his hand to her hip, to allow the tips of his fingers to slip beneath the hem of her sweater and find a soft patch of skin. Small, whispered touches that would be promises of more to come once they departed.

But he knew that while he may offer to walk her home, and he knew she would accept, he also knew he’d leave her at her door despite the clear invitation in her eyes.

“When are you going to do something about that?” Robin asked later that night, joining Killian at the bar and glancing back at where Emma and Belle had moved to one of the pool tables.

Killian picked at the peeling label on his bottle of beer and sighed. “At this point, I am not quite sure, mate.”

Robin signaled for another round and turned towards him. “That’s bollocks, and you know it.” He tipped his drink towards Killian’s once the bartender dropped off the fresh round. “You’ve been practically dating as it is, and you know she won’t wait around forever for you to realize it.”

“I know,” he whispered before knocking back a healthy pull of his beer.

“Then don’t be the one to break both your hearts this time.”

*

Robin’s words rattled around his head for weeks. He worked, he watched Roland, and Emma came to his house each Friday night, all while the words chewed at the recesses of his brain.

He’d stare at her bare feet, toes tucked under his thigh, and wonder at what was holding him back.

*

So he was wholly unprepared when it all just _shifted_.

Emma was standing at his door to drive him to Thanksgiving dinner, wearing a simple black, oversized sweater, a pair of skinny jeans, and black heels. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but it left him devastated nonetheless.

“Emma,” he said simply, trying to take in the way her hair curled around her shoulders and how red her lips were.

She smiled at him, her eyes nearly even with his in the heels. Stepping forward, she placed her hand on his chest and leaned in to kiss his cheek. He hummed and clasped his hand over hers as she did, his other hand moving to slip along her waist, to keep her with him a moment longer. He wanted to kiss her, and for the first time since this all started he realized he was going to allow himself to ask for it.

“Killian?” she whispered, angling her head back to look at him.

He smiled and kept his eyes on hers, trying to calm the rapid thud of his heart. He brought the hand he held to his mouth, offering a kiss to her palm all without shifting his gaze. Her head tilted and he could see the moment she seemed to realize what he was going to do.

“Killian?” she asked again, swaying slightly towards him.

He slid his lips to the heel of her palm, pressing in another kiss there before letting go and moving to trace his fingers along her jaw.

“Go out with me,” he asked, his thumb swiping at the cleft of her chin as his fingers tangled in her hair.

Her eyes slipped closed as her hand returned to his chest, fingers toying with the edge of his vest. “Tonight?”

He laughed, a quiet thing against her lips. “No, love, not tonight. I don’t think Mary Margaret would forgive us if I decided to abscond with you and the mashed potatoes I promised to bring.”

“She put you to work too?” Emma murmured, curling her hand not caught between them at his hip.

Killian hummed and slid his hand to the back of her head, tilting her as he did and ghosting his lips over hers. “Aye. So will you?”

She huffed and his smile widened. “Yes, you idiot.”

*

They were late to dinner.

Red lipstick stains proved to take some effort to remove, especially when he couldn’t stop grinning at himself in the mirror.

They reached David and Mary Margaret’s front door and he pressed in behind her, his hands grabbing at her hips. He nosed at the side of her neck, searching for skin beneath the wide, folding collar of her sweater.

“Stop,” she warned but then gave a giggle and arched into him. “I’m going to drop your potatoes if you keep doing that."

He hummed and gave a roll of his hips before he let go of one hip and knocked on the door.

“I hate you,” she whispered as he leaned down to pick up the bottles of wine he’d placed on the step.

“No, you really don’t,” he teased as Mary Margaret opened the front door.

*

“So where are you going to take me?”

Killian smiled against the top of her head. While they managed to make it through dinner without incident, as soon as he sat down on the couch Emma followed suit, curling up between his legs, her head resting on his chest. He could see David hovering in the doorway, a question in the arch of his brow, but Killian only gave him a small shrug of his shoulder.

“Not sure yet. I have to admit that the question took me a bit by surprise.”

He could feel her stiffen beneath him at his words. He reached down to thread her fingers between his, pulling both their hands to rest next to where her head laid on his chest.

“What made you ask then?”

“Because I wanted to,” he said, resting his free hand on her elbow, rubbing at the soft wool of her sweater. “Have wanted to for months. And I thought you might have wanted to too, though you’ve been waiting on me to get there, I know you have.”

She squeezed his hand and once she eased up, he let go and reached to tilt her chin so he could see her face.

“I don’t know what I’ve been waiting for, but tonight, seeing you at my door, I wanted to ask. And I wanted to kiss you. So I did.”

He wanted to kiss the slow smile that spread across her lips at her words and he was leaning in to follow that thought when she stopped him with a finger to his mouth.

“Let me take you home, Killian.”

*

Emma barely got the car into park before Killian leaned across the gearbox and cupped her face, bringing her lips to his. He meant to keep it light, not wanting to get carried away but at the first swipe of her tongue, he opened to her, losing himself in the wet slide of her tongue with his. He moved to kissing a line down her throat, nosing into the depths of her sweater’s collar to lick at the hollow of her clavicle, before turning to the sensitive patch of skin he knew he’d find at the back of her ear.

She gave a groan when he pressed his mouth to that spot and it had him moving his hands to her hips, wanting to haul her into his lap and see how many other noises he might be able to wring from her. But instead he drew back, only just enough to take a breath and to brush his lips along her jaw, using the moment to admire the way her chest heaved and how her blush heated her cheeks. He reached to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger while his thumb brushed along the other side of her face. “I’m going to say goodnight here, Swan.”

She cupped his face and kissed him again, this time a slow, tender thing that tugged at his bottom lip when she pulled away. “Are you sure?”

“Not in the slightest, love.” He pressed back towards her and brushed a kiss across her lips. “But I know if you walk me to my door, I am going to invite you in. And as much as I’d like that -” He paused again, placing a lingering kiss to her cheek. “I’d really like to take you on a date this time around.”

Emma sighed and nosed along his jaw. “Ever the gentleman, Jones.”

“Always,” he whispered, dropping a kiss just below her ear. “Good night, Emma,” he said, sitting back and reaching for the door handle. “Tomorrow then?”


End file.
